Butter wouldn't melt
by thequeenregina
Summary: Emma visits Regina's grave alone for the first time. AU swanqueen.


**Hello, so I wanted to write a sad SwanQueen one shot and so asked for prompts!**

 **Thank you to Nicole for this one!**

 **I hope you enjoy, and do review, I love to hear what you think!**

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"Hey. I know it's been a while but I miss you. How are you doing?" Emma questions as she walks along the grass, fiddling with the stems of the white roses that are tightly clasped in her grasp. "I'm good." She adds in a lie, forcing the lump away that swells in her throat as she closes her eyes in order to compose herself.

But who is she fooling? Not herself, and she knows she isn't fooling her wife, either. "Things aren't the same without you." She whispers, trailing her fingers delicately along the curve of Regina's headstone, her eyes glistening with clinging tears before she deposits the small bunch of roses on top.

"People look at me like I'm crazy, Gina, cos' I've been talking to myself a lot recently. Have you heard me?" Emma asks, but she has to stop a moment, for her voice has gotten higher and she can't quite control it.

"I still..." The blonde begins but fades away to silence, takes a breath to compose herself before crouching until she is level with the stone that is beautifully engraved with her wife's name, the regal patterns and etchings fit for a queen. "I still wake up some mornings, expecting to find you there. But you're not... I don't think I've ever felt so lonely as I do on those mornings." She whispers, bringing the back of her hand up to her cheek to wipe away a few stray tears.

"Is it peaceful up there, baby?" Emma coos before letting out an ugly and uncontrollable sob, dropping her head to her chest as she weeps loudly. She is a mess without the love of her life beside her, a quivering and fragile mess.

Emma has tried to be strong, for Henry above all else, but it's the nights when she stills catches a whiff of Regina's perfume wafting over from her side of the bed, the nights where she can still remember how warm she felt tucked up against her wife and how cold she feels now, those nights are the nights which have the blonde crying herself to sleep and clutching at the duvet that little bit tighter, as if that will offer her the comfort she needs.

"I remembered what day it is today." Emma begins again, forcing a smile, "I didn't forget, not this year." She reminds almost proudly before asking with a trembling lip, "Did you remember it too? Five years ago today I married you, Gina... Five years ago, today, you gave me the greatest gift you could give me; Yo-" but she can't even finish that either, her sob breaking the word in half, cutting it down before it's even left her mouth. All of this time she has spent holding up the flood gates, all of this time she had put on a brave face since the accident and now, now the gates have opened and they are refusing to close again. Hot tears continue to trickle down Emma's cheeks. She has been brave until this day. The day of their wedding anniversary.

"I can still picture your smile from our first dance, I find that it's one that reoccurs when I dream of you, and," she gives a light laugh before sniffing through watery eyes, "And I remember that same smile appearing when I gave you our first wedding anniversary present... I didn't realise I didn't have to actually buy you a piece of paper."

The memory causes Emma's heart to warm just a little yet restrict that much more with the yearning for more memories like that. For one more time where she can see her wife's face again. It's only been six months since the accident but she is beginning to forget what Regina's laugh sounded like, starting to forget how soft her lips felt when they were pressed against her own.

Emma hates herself for this. Hates that she cannot fix this, hates that she couldn't have taken Regina's place. "But I wouldn't wish this pain on you." She whispers aloud as she allows the flat of her hand to smooth over the length of the cold stone.

The sun has now been hidden by the clouds and a cool breeze has joined the slightly greyer atmosphere, has Emma feeling more numb than she already was, has her tugging at her scarf to keep the little warmth she has in.

"Henry doesn't like my toast." Emma says, changing the subject, for the direction of topic is something too painful to continue to converse. "He says, 'the butter doesn't melt like mom's used ta'." She adds with a fond chuckle and a shake of her head, "I told you that you could even make the simplest of things taste good."

The blonde finds herself smiling at the memory as she thumbs away a few of the raindrop stains on the marble around her wife's date of birth. "You were getting butter that night."

 _"Emma will you stop complaining? I'll be home in five minutes, I promise. I just had to pick up a few things. We have run out of butter." Regina chastises over the phone that resides in the passenger seat of her car._

 _"But the popcorn is getting cold!" Emma whines, though it makes Regina smile, has her shaking her head and turning to look towards the phone._

 _"What's the choice movie of tonight, Mrs Mills?" Regina asks and it has an even wider smile caressing her lips with the reminder of Emma taking her second name._

 _Emma smirks, glances over at the DVD cupboard, "Well, I was torn between-"_

 _"OH MY GOD!" A loud scream from the other end of the phone cuts Emma off, the shrill cry closely followed by a loud smash and the sound of glass shattering. A sound which has Emma holding the phone closer to her ear despite the loudness of it._

 _"Regina?! Regina?! Are you there?! Regina?! Answer me!" Emma yells through the phone, her voice desperate and heart hammering, but she is only answered with the high pitched beep of the dial tone._

"I hope you're not in pain anymore, baby." Emma whispers, trying desperately to block out the unwelcome sound of Regina's final cry from her head, trying to block the image of her wife's lifeless body laying cold on the table at the morgue as she waited to be identified. The memory makes Emma feel sick, makes bile rise to her throat and tears threaten the rims of her eyes.

"I wanted to give this to you in person." She sobs, her voice truly broken and scratchy from the silent crying as she swallows hard and places the red velvety box beneath the headstone, open, to show off the rose gold eternity ring that sits untouched in the quilted interior.

"Happy anniversary, Regina."


End file.
